El Coyote, Gia Ransome and Hatchling at the Lazy Bones Lounge, 11th of July.

by Michael Ryan

Traversing the cliched trope of walking alone to a gig, trying to vaguely look like a mysterious, cool ‘dude’ instead of a loser with no friends. I walked down Marrickville Road, plunging into the depths of an anxious trip fuelled by being on my own at a social gathering. A paradigm I loathe.

What greeted me was a band called El Coyote, shimmering, flaunting their talent and proficiency of blues rhythm and style, even dabbling in esoteric psychedelia. Their lead singer performed in a likeness to a stream of consciousness style that was raspy and melodic. The lead singer showed great temperent, humour, and wit. A band that could command the stage. El Coyote had great confidence and ability to change up musical style with flair, from hard rhythm and blues to more soft rock folk.

Between each group I could not help myself from people watching. My wayward eyes seemed to have found something. It seemed I shared a commonality with an elderly individual reading a kindle. A complex dichotomy of two opposed eras meeting at the hands. A relatable consequence I endure. I sat there besotted with intrigue. Whilst being on my own I felt invisible, did they too? Sitting upon the fringe of the room organised in an obsequiously random yet neatly organised knick-knacks around the venue. Lights, statues, mirrors, and paintings all seemed to blend into an aesthetic that lends itself to the ideologies of misfits. That’s what I felt Lazy Bones to be, an ode to the outsiders.

Pondering over. Gia Ransome entered the stage. Dressed in velvet valour her vocals matched her dress. A very talented singer with a voice that was ever so wondrously haunting. Captivating, she could held court with such intrigue and valour. Gia Ransome could also change gears so easily, from slow, heart piercing music to upbeat and raw energy, her and the band really delivered a show that was mesmerising. Never have I heard such prowess on vocals. Breath-taking.

The headline act; Hatchling. A depressing vibe but in the sweetest sense. In the same way you listen to sad music to intensify your own emotions. Hatchling did just that. Beautiful vocals that needed to be taken in whilst being very still and reverent. However, for some this was hard, a man that could hold his liquor akin to that of a sieve. The Kitchen utensil could not adhere to the same respect for the artist as the rest, constantly talking over the performance, unfortunately detracting from the talent on display.

Nevertheless, I truly believe good music has the uncanny ability to rub off on you, whatever style they bring, you inadvertently enter that very state. For me, Gia Ransome did this with such poetic prowess. I left the gig in a transfixed state, yet still managing to be perplexed by the elderly individual. My mind wandered deeper into a psychosis, were they in disguise? Something about their hair, their glasses the way their fingers bent. Maybe I ruminated too much, maybe we’re all in disguise? But somewhere, somehow, I feel we live in a blur, with music the backdrop, helping us make some kind sense of the world.